Warmth
by The Freaky Butt Mate
Summary: [Drabble][ff] When I was little, he came. He warmed my hands up. But then he went again, and I became cold. Only he can warm me up. Only Him. [DebbieDarren] [DebbieAlice]


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**Warning:** This contains slash! Femme slash! Yes, that means f/f! …You have to admit, with all these m/m's going on, the ladies of this fandom are getting a little frisky, don't you agree? Sigh.

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**Warmth**

**- - - -**

I remember, a long time ago, when I was still a young girl, a time at Christmas. It was cold that year, the snows falling gently on to the rooftops of my hometown, piling up in the streets and squares so that the children could gather them up to make snowballs and snow men. Like every other year, it was a good Christmas, filled with love and life and laughs.

It was a happy Christmas.

However, it was also a cold one.

I lost my gloves that year. Well, at least, I thought I did.

As I searched for them, my hands began to freeze. The bitter cold, biting air nipped at my fingertips, and even when I dug them deep into my jacket pockets, the wind still managed to somehow pick its way through the little holes in the material and touch my hands. There was nothing I could do to warm them up.

And then I met _him_.

He held my hands.

He warmed them up.

He helped me find my gloves.

He made a snowman with me.

He shared his first kiss with me, under the moonlight.

And then, as suddenly as he came, he left.

I thought I would never see him again.

However, my hands – they kept that warmth he had put into them, almost as if a part of him had infused itself into my skin. I would hold my hands up to my face, and just feel his heat radiating from my hands.

Years later.

My hands gradually cooled down, until they were cold again.

I grew up.

When I saw him again, he hadn't.

But then he held my hands again.

I knew it was him.

Only he could warm my hands up.

Only he could keep my hands warm.

And I…

I think I loved…

- - - -

For the last few months now, Alice and I had been at the Vampire Mountain, the first two human females ever to complete such a feat. We arrived, cold, hungry and weary, and as soon as we were spotted by the guards, were immediately dragged off to some the Hall of Princes.

Vancha was there.

He took care of us.

Made the other princes listen to us.

We told them our plan, as weary as we were.

And they agreed almost immediately.

Training came next.

We were trained by every vampire who wanted a challenge – they would come in, hand us a weapon, and start teaching us how to wield it for hours on end. Over the first few weeks of this, I would collapse into my hammock, every night of the week, wishing with everything that I had that all the pain would go away.

And then I would think of him.

And I would remember that I wanted so much to help him.

But remembering him didn't help to keep my hands warm.

They were cold again.

Always, so frozen.

- - - -

Alice and I grew close. Well, why wouldn't we? We had to – stick together, I got your back, you got mine – that sort of thing. After all, we _were_ the only two humans in the Mountain – not counting the strange, creepy Guardians.

She noticed how cold my hands were.

How I would sit by a fire at day, and hold my hands out towards the flames.

They wouldn't warm up.

She didn't do anything at first.

Then, one day, she pulled up a chair and sat down beside me.

"Give me your hands."

It wasn't a request.

I gave them to her.

She placed them in her lap, wrapping her own larger ones around them. Both our hands were blistered from holding so many strange weapons – blistered, sore, tired, and cold.

Slowly, Alice leaned forward and blew gently onto the hands.

It didn't work.

She began to rub them.

It didn't work.

She brought my hands up to her face. I watched, curious.

She held them to her cheek.

Closed her eyes.

"So… cold…"

She kissed them, one by one.

Then she kissed my lips, slowly.

My fingers tingled.

Was it warmth…?

"Did it work?" She asked softly.

I sighed, shaking my head and folding my hands into my lap.

"I think… only _he_… can warm them up."

Quiet.

The fire crackled.

"But he's not here." She said.

I nodded.

She caught my eyes with her own and held them.

"But I'm here."

"But I don't think… that will work."

"We can still try."

I remained quiet.

She kissed me once more.

- - - -

I remember a time, when I was still a young girl. It was Christmas time.

It was cold.

And he…

He warmed me up.

I grew cold over the years.

When I saw him again…

He held my hands.

And the warmth spread through my body, through every nerve and fibre, down to the marrow of my bone.

And I knew that I was complete.

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**A.N** …Whee. I'm tired. –falls asleep-


End file.
